


Christmas at Wayne Manor

by zaynjawaads



Category: DC - Fandom, DCU, batfam - Fandom
Genre: AU, Batfamily Feels, Batman - Freeform, Catgirl, F/M, Nightwing - Freeform, Oracle - Freeform, Red Robin, Robin - Freeform, batfam, spoiler - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaynjawaads/pseuds/zaynjawaads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick makes the BatFam wear their matching Christmas sweaters. He remembers that Dami doesn't have one so they buy one together. Dami is a little shit. Alfred is his usual self. Flick teases Jason. (It's pretty funny.)</p><p>Dedicated in Christmas spirit to my wonderfully marvelous best friend, Anya.<br/>P.S. Her tumblr is thisisabitofme - go follow her!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas at Wayne Manor

On the first of December Dick always made it his mission to decorate the manor for the Christmas season. He always had. Bruce suspected he always would, too. He got up along with Alfred and Flick at the crack of dawn and began hanging tinsel on the railings of the staircases, hanging wreaths on all the doors and hanging fairy lights on every space he could find. His favourite decoration though, was the mistletoe. He enjoyed hanging it in random places all around the manor, in the hope that he might catch unsuspecting people by surprise. Also, he might've enjoyed kissing Flick. You know, just a bit. 

This year was no different. The three swept from room to room, hanging decorations and spreading cheer, until finally the only room left to decorate was the family lounge. Dick decided to wait for the rest of the family to wake before beginning the lounge. He flopped down onto the couch and itched at the neck of his Christmas sweater. As itchy and ugly as it was, Dick loved wearing it, because the rest of his family hated it. It was a terrible garish red colour with patterns in green and off-white, and was the scratchiest thing he'd ever worn. He justified though, that this was what made it special. Last year he had gone out and bought everybody else matching ones, but as soon as they were opened groans were made and Dick was hit playfully over the back of the head (multiple times). Then the sweaters got shoved at the back of their owners' closets. 

Dick had every intention of giving the sweaters a comeback this year. He had enlisted Alfred and Flick once again, and planned to sneak from bedroom to bedroom, rifling through closets and placing Christmas sweaters on the end of their owners' beds as a reminder. In theory, this was a good plan. The first room they went to was Tim's. Upon entering Tim's room, a very complicated system of alarms and defences were tripped. Upon hearing the sirens, Dick jumped immediately sideways, instinctively flying clear of the net being propelled toward him. Flick crouched swiftly down and flattened herself on the floor. Poor Alfred copped the full brunt of - what Tim called - the "aggressive defences" of his bedroom. Tim woke with a start before glaring at them with a simultaneously sleepy and menacing look on his face, before dragging his feet right past them without a word and making his way down to the library. Dick shrugged, helped Flick untangle Alfred from the net, and then proceeded to get the sweater out of the closet anyway. This time, Alfred managed to avoid the defences: cloud of sleeping gas that was sprayed his way. 

Next up was Jason's room. Flick and Alfred were almost deafened by his snoring (which, Alfred remarked, was "a defence in itself"). Not much else happened in there, and the sweater was recovered easily, but Alfred sneakily took Jason's stash of cigarettes, and Dick learnt that Jason slept with a knife under his pillow. Jason would later wake up with the sweater tossed across his face, the loose fibres tickling his nostrils. 

Next was Bruce's room. Dick didn't even bother going in there. He knew that Bruce would, under no circumstances, deign to wear the hideous sweater. Nothing he could say would convince Bruce to vary any of his aesthetic choices. (Dick had learnt this at a very young age when he had tried to tell Bruce that red, yellow and green didn't match.) 

Dick, Flick and Alfred came to the door of Steph and Babs' room. They insisted on sharing a room since they were the "only girls living full-time in the manor" (because "Selina doesn't count, and Flick stays with Dick!") and they needed their privacy. Alfred opened the door a crack and peered in. Both girls were sound asleep in their beds, music playing faintly from the dock they had bought themselves as an early Christmas present. Alfred strode into the room, followed by Dick, and opened Steph's cupboard. A jumble of clothes fell on top of the two men and they tumbled backwards with a muffled thump. Flick snorted from the doorway. Dick sat up and glared at Flick. When she just smirked, he looked over at the girls to see that they were still asleep. When he was certain that they had not woken, he and Alfred stood up and began to sort through the ridiculously large pile of clothes surrounding them. Alfred folded them neatly as he sorted through them, but Dick found this method too time-consuming and soon enough resorted to tossing the clothing messily to the end of its owner's bed. It took a good while, but eventually Steph's sweater was recovered. Babs' sweater was folded neatly, but was at the bottom of her sweater pile. It was easily recovered. The clothes folded by Alfred were placed back in the cupboard and the others were simply left on the floor. In true Pennyworth style, however, Alfred seemed to feel guilty and left a note for the girls when they woke. "I will be back to tidy this up after breakfast", it read. 

The last bedroom to turn upside down was Damian's. As they approached the door Flick knocked quietly, but Dick just barged in anyway. It didn't matter though, because Dami was still fast asleep, curled up in his bed. Dick and Alfred opened the doors to his cupboard and began searching for his sweater. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Dick quietly said, "Wait, Damian doesn't own a Wayne Christmas Sweater. He wasn't here last Christmas." 

"No, he wasn't. He would also appreciate it if the intruders in his bedroom were to close his cupboard and leave the room, promptly and permanently." Damian said as he sat up in his bed, arms folded across his chest and a remarkably stern look across his face for a boy who had only just woken up. Alfred nodded his head. "As you wish, Master Damian", he said before sweeping out of the room in his usual manner. Flick followed, smiling to herself. Dick, however, stayed put. "I don't think so mister, not just yet." 

Dami rolled his eyes. "It really isn't necessary for you to be a pestilence." 

Dick responded, "No, I agree. But we have to get you a Christmas sweater. All of us in the manor have matching ones, even Flick. We'll go out now, while everyone else is still in bed, and get one." He smiled brightly at the less-than-impressed boy sitting in the bed. 

"I don't think that is a nice idea, Grayson. Leave, now." Dami instructed as he lay back down and rolled onto his side. "Go on", he prompted when Dick did not move. 

"No, I don't think so. Come on, we're going out." Dick grabbed Dami's hand and pulled him out of the bed. He grabbed some random clothes of Damian's shelves and threw them at him. Then, he walked out of the room and closed it behind him, waiting. A few moments passed before Damian exited the room, wearing a scowl on his face and a different set of clothes than the ones Dick had thrown at him. He sighed grumpily. 

"So, Grayson," he started, "where is it that you are kidnapping me to?"

*****

"Here we are!" Dick stated happily as he and Damian walked into the cheerfully over-decorated shopping complex. 

"Don't sound so excited, Grayson. This place is populated by some disgustingly odd people. It shames me to set foot through this door." Dami replied snobbishly. 

"Shush, it's endearing. Now," Dick said as he started dragging Damian by the wrist around the complex. "I can't remember which shop it was, but I'll know it when I see it." He let go of the younger boy's wrist and continued walking at a brisk pace. Damian appreciated this. He was already ready to escape the torture of being seen with Grayson in public. In fact, it was while he was considering ditching Dick and just heading home that Dick finally called, "Ah, there's the one. That's it." Damian sighed in relief. 

His peace was not long-winded however, because once he entered the shop he saw it was exactly the kind of place that somebody like Dick would enjoy. And, to be frank, that meant he certainly would not. 

Dick looked around almost feverishly, searching frantically for the jumper that would perfectly compliment his own. Dami followed glumly behind, not bothering to help with the search. After what seemed like an hour, but in reality was only five minutes, Dick surfaced from under a pile of discount items, a sweater in his hand and a gleeful smile on his face. "Dami! Dami! I found one! And look, it'll fit you perfectly!" Dick called as he made his way through the maze of clothing racks to reach Damian. He held up the sweater for Damian to see. It was a strange maroon colour with white Christmas patterning and a picture of Rudolph the reindeer. 

Damian stared at the hideous thing, mouth agape as the smiling boy came ever closer. He thought it was horrible. But then again, he wasn't one to celebrate Christmas. So he guessed that it'd have to do, since he really didn't care anyway. He sighed in self-disgust for what he was about to do. "Fine, Grayson, we'll take that one." He said. Now it was Dick's turn to be shocked. His mouth popped open into a perfect little 'o' at the lack of argument from the tiny yet fiery boy. He recovered quickly and plastered a bright smile on his face. "Well, great! Awesome! Yeah." Dick said as his smile faded and a look of confusion covered his face. He shook his head a little to clear his thoughts as he turned and walked to the counter. He paid for the sweater and slung the bag over his arm. "Say, why don't we go to Starbucks? 'Tis the season to treat yourself." Dick smiled kindly. Dami nodded, but lead the way. Once they arrived they recited their usual orders. 

"Actually, cancel that order. We'll just have two tall peppermint hot chocolates. For Dick and Damian." Damian ordered. The lady behind the counter nodded and Dick paid. They moved along the counter to allow the next customer to order and waited for their drinks to be finished. "I've never had a peppermint hot chocolate before. What brought that on, Dami?" Dick questioned conversationally. 

"Of course you haven't Grayson; there are many wonderful experiences in this world that you are yet to experience." Damian stated. At this Dick's eyes widened in horror and shock, but he seemed to shake it off just as an employee called out their names. They took their cups and turned around, deciding where to sit. Damian started walking towards an unoccupied leather couch and, as if still in shock, Dick followed dumbly. 

Damian sat down and took a sip. "Sit, Grayson." 

Dick complied. He sat next to Damian and took a sip. "Oh, wow, this tastes awesome." 

"Of course it does, I picked it."

*****

By the time the two brothers returned to the Manor the rest of their dysfunctional little family was awake. Everybody was standing - or in Jason's case, sulking - around the kitchen, fixing themselves coffee or chatting over a plate of pancakes and berries. Funnily enough Bruce, Alfred and Dick were the only people wearing their sweaters. Steph had hers in her hand and was eyeing it almost suspiciously, and Tim was inspecting the moth-eaten holes in his own. 

"If you didn't install the aggressive defences in your bedroom, Master Timothy, then perhaps I would've been able to prevent the making of those holes." Alfred said pointedly. Tim scowled. 

"Merry Christmas everyone!" Dick cheered as he swept into the kitchen, Damian in tow. 

"Dick, it's still another twenty-five days until Christmas!" Babs called with a laugh. 

"But we’re all decorating the lounge together today, right? And putting up the tree?" Tim asked. 

"Of course! It's tradition!" Dick smiled, placing an arm around the shoulders of his younger brother. Tim pouted and shrugged away Dick's arm. Dick didn't look fazed and continued. "So, who wants to help me set up the tree? I nominate Jason!" Jason paused his sulking to stare at Dick. He tried to pretend to begin sniffling but as he breathed in through his nose one of the stray fibres from his jumper tickled his nose. He sneezed unnecessarily loudly, to the amusement of everyone but himself. Flick stopped laughing before everyone else. Dick found this strange since she had always enjoyed teasing the second-eldest bat son, but he soon found out why. 

Flick walked over to a sulky-looking Jason and wrapped her arm around him. "Shut up guys, stop laughing at him. It's mean." She said sternly. 

"Yeah!" Jason affirmed. 

"I mean," She continued, "he can't help it if he's a bit of an idiot. It just comes naturally to him." Once again, everybody started laughing. Flick slapped him playfully on the arm before running and hiding behind Dick, jumping on his back and poking her head out from behind his hair. Jason growled but didn't move to chase the girl. 

While the laughter in the room dissolved into chatter and various different conversations, Dick dropped Flick and asked meekly, "So, is anybody going to help me with the tree?"

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any errors, this hasn't been beta'd, only edited by me.


End file.
